The Invasion of the Tearling

“Like riding a bike,” she whispered. “Just like riding a bike, that’s all.”


She spared a final glance at Greg, who still lay sprawled in the same position on the kitchen floor. Blood had begun to pool beneath his right ear now, but he was still breathing, and for a moment Lily wondered at her own coldness, until she isolated its source: it didn’t really matter whether Greg lived or died, or whether she did herself, only that she got to Boston. The better world, the small village beside the river, these were the things which mattered, and they burned inside Lily’s head, searing through the fear, lifting her up.

She turned and headed down the hallway toward the garage.

NO ONE HAD driven the Mercedes in a while, but it didn’t seem any worse for disuse. Jonathan must have been taking care of it; he liked tinkering with cars, kept the BMW and Lexus in good working order. The Mercedes had a full tank, and its headlights cut easily through the night as Lily turned off Willow Avenue and onto the checkpoint road. Ahead of her the wall loomed: twenty feet of solid steel polymer, topped with laser edging, blocking off the horizon. Something inside Lily seemed to freeze at the sight, and a low, panicked voice began to babble inside her … the voice of her marriage, Lily realized now, its tone craven and helpless.

You’ll never make it through, not in a million years, and when they find Greg—

“Shut up,” Lily whispered. Her voice shook in the darkness of the car.

The checkpoint appeared out of the fog: a fifteen-foot break in the wall, lit by bright fluorescent lamps. A small guardhouse, also walled in steel, stood off to the left, and as Lily approached, two guards in Security uniforms emerged. Each of them carried a gun, the small laser pistols that Security seemed to favor these days. Greg had a gun, Lily suddenly remembered, a tiny thing that he kept in his study. She could have grabbed it, and this made her wonder what else she had forgotten. But it was too late.

“Evening, ma’am,” the first guard said as she lowered the window. He squinted at her for a moment, then smiled wide. “It’s Mrs. Mayhew, isn’t it?”

“Yes, John. How are you tonight?”

“Fine, ma’am. Where you heading?”

“Into the city to see friends.”

“All by yourself at this hour? Where’s that black bodyguard of yours?”

“He had to run an errand for my husband.”

“Just a moment.” He walked around the hood and disappeared back into the guardhouse. The other guard remained on the right side of the hood, a dark silhouette against the fluorescent lamps. Lily kept a pleasant smile on her face, but her fingers had clamped on the steering wheel. The guard had gone to call Greg, and now her mind produced a clear picture: the kitchen, Greg lying there motionless, but his phone rang on and on. The muscles in her thighs were shaking. Outside the bright circle of fluorescence that bathed the car, everything was pitch-black.

“Ma’am?”

Lily jumped; the guard had silently reappeared at the other window.

“We’re not getting any reply from your husband, ma’am.”

“He’s ill,” she replied. “That’s why he’s not coming with me.”

The guard consulted a tiny handheld, and Lily knew that he was scrolling through the details of her life. Greg’s position, the fact that they were not under surveillance, would weigh in Lily’s favor. Lily had never been in trouble, and that would help too. Maddy would be in there, certainly, but so would the information that Lily had been instrumental in turning Maddy in.

“Does your husband always let you go into the city at night by yourself?”

“No. This is the first time.”

The guard stood staring down at her, and Lily had the disturbing certainty that his eyes were crawling, even though her breasts were encased in the thick leather jacket. But she kept the smile plastered on, and after a moment the guard raised something black and gleaming. For one panicked moment, Lily thought it was a gun, but then she saw that it was only a scanner. She offered her shoulder and waited for the scan to register with a soft beep. The guard waved Lily forward, and she depressed the gas pedal. Too hard, for the Mercedes leapt forward with a growl. She stomped on the brake, gave an apologetic smile out the open window. “I haven’t driven in a while.”

“Well, be careful, ma’am. Stay off the public roads. And don’t open your door for any strangers.”

“I won’t. Have a good night.”